


Another Life

by CatherineParker



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineParker/pseuds/CatherineParker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The day of her capture was supposed to be the end of her existence - not the beginning of another life. Her world turned upside down in a couple of months - and remembering it now – years later, she pressed her hand to her chest where she still could feel the sharp sting in her heart at the memory and knowledge, that with the passing of time she had become the hated enemy herself. And if she listened intently enough, she can still hear the screams and shouts, as if it were yesterday. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meredith](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Meredith).



> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made of this.

Mistress was the first word she had learned after her capture by the D'Haran soldiers.  
   
The Mord'Sith temple she was brought to was the one she always had avoided with greatest care. Now she stood in the main hall, wrists and ankles in chains, dirty and bloody, clothes more shreds than anything. She never was prepared for what was about to happen on this particular day - or in the years that should follow.  
   
The day of her capture was supposed to be the end of her existence - not the beginning of another life. Her world turned upside down in a couple of months - and remembering it now – years later, she pressed her hand to her chest where she still could feel the sharp sting in her heart at the memory and knowledge, that with the passing of time she had become the hated enemy herself. And if she listened intently enough, she can still hear the screams and shouts, as if it were yesterday. _Traitor. Traitor. Traitor._  
   
She had spent her life to fight against oppression and slavery. The need for justice and freedom, let her heart swell with pride every time she rammed her sword through a body and it came back gloriously red from one of Darken Rahl's soldiers.  
   
Darken Rahl.  
   
The monster with the twisted soul; lost for all times to the sane world. A hollow shell erased of any sentiment and kindness. An abomination of nature, the parasite of D'Hara, nourishing of his people. D'Hara must be freed from its tyrant, if it ever wanted to exist in peace and true freedom. She had fought for D'Hara, for all mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, children who had died at his command. She had fought against the worlds greatest enemy - and lost. She was supposed to watch him die by her hand - or die herself in the attempt. She never was supposed to fall in love with him.  
   
Mistress was the first word she had learned after her capture by the D'Haran soldiers. She also had learned to accept, that pain was her constant companion from now on. On the first day she had seen her Mistress from the distance, she had found her quite beautiful with the shining red leather and blonde braided hair. After the first time she met her, she acknowledged, that she had underestimated the woman she was supposed to obey. Beautiful, was not a word that first came to her mind, when she saw her Mistress from then on.  
   
At the morning as she saw Darken Rahl walking through the temple was weeks after her capture. But were it really weeks? Days blurred into months and days went by like hours. She couldn't say how long she was in here, or recall the day her eyes had seen the daylight for the last time. And she slowly began to fear for her sanity.  
   
It became worse with each day that went by, each time the Agiel of her Mistress burned like fire on her skin. Mistress.  
   
When she spent the night in one of the dark cells lying on the wet dirty ground she enjoyed the peaceful silence, only disturbed by single cries of pain now and then from deep down in the dungeons. As she lay there and blocked out the cruel and foreign world around her, blocked out the pain and the loss of her family and friends, her mind found peace in a place without torment and abuse as she remembered home and happy days of the past. Faint was the memory of unimaginable pain of the Agiel then, she was sure it ripped a piece from her soul every time it touched her skin.  
   
Mistress was the first word she had learned after her capture by the D'Haran soldiers. But she refused to say it, nobody would ever be her Mistress. She used whore to address her Mistress instead.  
   
She refused to break for the Keepers servants and for all she knew Darken Rahl was an incarnation of the Keeper in the world of the living. The first time she addressed her Mistress as a whore, she was not able to speak for a week after that. Soon it was only a whisper that left her lips, but the blonde Mord'Sith heard it anyway. Her Mistress' touch was never soft or gentle and she had long forgotten how soft or gentle was supposed to feel. When the Agiel pressed against her spine instead of her throat, and the pain spread into corners of her limp body that she didn't know she could still feel, the fear to lose her ability to walk, kept the word inside. The thought - that she most probably would never walk in freedom again - banned from her mind.  
   
"What is your name?"  
   
It was the first question her Mistress asked, after she had told her how she was to address. _You are to call me Mistress Denna, but Mistress will suffice for now._ That was months ago. Her Mistress never asked questions or spoke to her at all, the only way to communicate had always been with the end of her Agiel.  
   
"What is your name?" She repeated, as no answer left Cara's lips. "I won't ask again." And Cara knew she was telling the truth. Her Agiel would instead.  
   
"Ca-." She choked at the effort to speak, her voice hoarse from only screaming against the pain her Mistress usually inflicted. "Cara Mason."  
   
"There is one very important thing Cara Mason, that you should keep in mind." Her Mistress' gaze bored into her and she felt a shiver run down her back as the woman spoke her name. "There is no place where you could go now. No place to hide. Nothing is left were I wouldn't find you. You're mine now. And -" She stepped closer, "I don't intend to let you go. Ever again."  
   
She wanted to laugh at the Mord'Sith standing before her, one hand clasped tightly around the shaft of her Agiel, blazing blue eyes taunting her, but the laugh died in her throat. Unfortunately she had the feeling that her Mistress did not lie to her this time either.  
   
"Mistr-." Cara bit down hard on her lip until she tasted warm blood on her tongue. How could she say it. The one word she never wanted to use. She had not intended to say it, and yet it had sliped from her lips.  
   
The blonde Mord'Sith titled her head to one side and studied her curiously for a moment, then stepped closer and raised her gloved hand to Cara's face. She was sure her Mistress' touch would bring pain and sorrow and shivered unable to control it. She was surprised to find her Mistress hand warm against her cheek, she had imagined it to be hard and cold. As the slim fingers caressed her abused skin, Cara remembered how soft and gentle was supposed to feel and she couldn't fight to urge to lean further into the touch. Her Mistress forehead rested against her own, as she whispered the word that would seal Cara's fate, "finally."  
   
On the day her gaze fell on the man she had only seen once in her life, the tyrant she always had hated, something stirred inside her. In the darkest corner of her mind flared something to life, of which she thought long gone. An emotion, rare and unforgiving. She felt it as a calm flame that soon burned hot and pulsing through her veins. Hatred and hope that she still could reach her destiny, when she only got close enough. And she would wait patiently for this moment to come.  
   
After she had submitted to her Mistress, her life got better. Cara still felt the sting every time she called the aloof Mord'Sith by the title the blonde was so insistent about, but now she had an even greater goal to accomplish.  
   
She never was prepared for the man, she had despised her entire life. She always thought him to be cruel and harsh. He still was that man, but not to her. As she got to know him, she felt her heart open for the man the world detested - the man she had detested. And felt repulsed by herself.  
   
She had to discover that Lord Rahl was not the hollow shell she always thought he was. Behind the great evil was a man with unexpected acts of kindness. At the day, she had waited for so long to come, the day she would finally kill him - Darken Rahl leaned in, close enough for Cara to feel the heat radiating from his body, she told herself that it just wasn't the right moment, and brushed her lips against his. She knew it was wrong. So incredible wrong how good his lips felt against her own, even more wrong that she pulled him closer. It was not wrong as he took her to his bed, it was wrong that she wanted him to.  
   
Cara was supposed to watch Darken Rahl die by her hands - or die herself in the attempt. She never was supposed to fall in love with him. But now years later – standing next to her husband in the bright shining sun, hands tightly clasped together on the balcony of the People's Palace, she felt content with her turn of life, she wouldn't have it any other way.  
   
And with the passing of time the shouts and screams that once called her traitor, would fade like sculptures of sand in the blowing wind.


End file.
